Hoshor Plains The burn marks on my epiano won't go away

The hug was brief, but Vairë savored it all the same. She pulled away at the same time as Inkalorë, resting her paws on their shoulders.

It is good to see you. She murmured, voice soft. The question spun her head a little, trying to remember.

No, not to my knowledge. Then, that bitter old snake that lived in her gut, bitter and emerald green, rose up in a pose to strike.

Fjall is. He lives with Ariadne, in village Moonsong. Apparently, she spoke of us. As if she had any right to! And wasn’t that a hurt she hadn’t quite prodded yet, the fact Ariadne knew of Fjall. But she couldn’t blame their sister, the blame rested all on the woman who bore them all.

She came back. Briefly, just after my wedding. Asked after me, once. Then left again.